The Protector
by serenakissedbyrain
Summary: This is a beyond crazy idea I got after reading Twilight by Stephenie Meyer. The story plot is different than Twilight but there is a similar language of writing. This here is also a love story involving vampires but with an eerie twist. Enjoy! Reviews!
1. Prologue

Prologue:Prologue: Prescience

I've running for my life for a while now, holding and grasping to that thin thread of hope that able me to stay alive.

The thick spread of rainforest-like vegetation combined with the foul smell of rotting wood only made escape harder. Massive canopy trees with tangled vines hanging in a low arch thrived and flourished in this part of the forest, trapping every life form to have set foot in this death forest, and providing a natural barrier against outsiders.

I could almost feel its hot, thirsty breath as it slowly closed the gap between us, and cutting through the thread of life I so desperately clung to. It was as if an invisible cloud of feelings of violence, thirst, hunger, and despair had draped over us, and mercilessly slaughtered every strand of the remaining bravery I had left in me.

Suddenly, my legs gave away, and up goes both of my arms. I tumbled down a slope and landed in a tangled mass of lush, undergrowth, with my mind in a state of complete turmoil.

What was I even doing here?

Shouldn't I be in my familiar, cozy room, under the safe covers of my cotton quilt, and not running for my life in some unknown, mysterious forest? The thought loomed in my head for a while as I continue to run for my life. Both of our motivations are obscure.

Oh my god.

I could feel my head starting to become dizzy, and my body began to sway awkwardly, like the way you first danced with a boy at a school dance where all the girls would be on one side and the boys the other. My jeans were somehow soaked through in a deep, mahogany-crimson color, which obviously was blood. I tore off a piece of fabric from my blouse to wipe away some of the dirt from my leg wound, and discovered that my arms too, were shining with blood.

Normally, I would've fainted right there, after seeing so much blood, but this, however, was 100 a dream. There was no doubt about it. But I wasn't waking up. Paranoia washed upon me.

To make matters a lot worse, it had silently caught up to me.

I am going to die. I just know it. It was just one of those things where you know for sure was going to happen. In this case, I am going to die here. I'm not the pessimist kind, but I am going to die. I'll never see mom, dad, Justin, and Holly again.

With a flash of intense light, the kind that overpowered even the brightness of lightning, it turned back into its human form. A very irresistible human form. Actually, a very frightening vampire in the form of an irresistible human.

Yes, I did say 'vampire'.

He was like none other. His striking, appealing appearance acts like a bait for us humans, the prey to vampires. He had light brown hair that neatly complemented his gorgeous steel blue eyes, which were keeping a close watch on the prey, which was me.

I had to forcibly tear my eyes away from his mesmerizing gaze before realizing the situation.

He cautiously took a muffled stride towards me and leaned down. He pressed his lips lightly to my throat; a wave of arctic chill blew through my body. Then, he sank his chilling, needle sharp fangs into my throat, piercing my tanned golden skin.

Then it happened. I jolted back into reality, realizing-this time for real-that it was just a dream. Actually, a nightmare.

I slowly shook my buttery blond hair in terrifying confusion, and laid back onto my bed.

Two questions swam around in my head as I unsuccessfully tried to go back to sleep. Was it just a dream or was it more? Was it an ominous message sent by Ares, the ancient god of war?

I shook uncontrollably for a few seconds, and went back to my deep slumber.


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One:

Chapter One

Unforeseen

God.

Algebra is the most gruesome of gruesomeness classes. I don't see what the big deal is with a bunch of random numbers and some unfamiliar signs. What's the point of learning all this crap?

I had asked my dad this once and he'd said 'It's because it's the most general subject to know. If you don't know any math, then what would you do if, let's say hypothetically, you had to buy paint for painting the new fences around the garden?' I had said 'I'd hire some guys to do the work for me'. But Bobby just scowled at me in disbelief and walked away.

I wanted to be an artist, not a geeky mathematician. And since I wanted to be an artist, why the heck should I give a damn about numbers? It's not like I'm going to paint equations or draw variables or something…

I slumped back into my chair, leaned my head back, and inhaled. A shiny, silky lock of my notorious hair cascaded down my back. I closed my dark cerulean eyes and blinked. A wave of men's cologne hit me. I grinned goofily at a pair of dark eyes.

It was the marvelous eyes of Brian Alba. The eyes every girl in school was flabbergasted by. Regardless, his irises were ashy, dark today rather than its usual shade that resembled a genuine lapis lazuli and an opal; various colorful shades.

I glowered in boredom into the pair of icy onyxes that were set perfectly just above his flawless cheekbones for two long ages before noticing that Mr. McCain had called on me. The question was: is zero a prime or composite number?

I exhaled in frustration and then groaned. It was probably unconcealed that I absolutely loathed math with pure hatred.

Mr. McCain began rapping his gold fountain pen impatiently on his desk. As soon as he turned around, Brian whispered in such a low voice only I could've heard, "It's neither. Zero is undefined".

I unwillingly spoke in a small voice, "Mr. McCain, zero is undefined".

Mr. McCain lifted a bushy eyebrow suspiciously at me and flashed The Death Stare in Brian's direction. But Brian simply shrugged casually.

"Serena, would you mind explaining why zero is considered undefined?"

"Mr. McCain, if I knew the answer, I wouldn't be wasting my breath trying to explain to you how I _don't_ know the answer. Besides, why don't you call on Brian? He seems to know the answer."

It was true… for once. Brian's hand practically touched the ceiling with his tallness and his sudden spark of excitement. Not only was he unintentionally popular and handsome, he was an intellectual genius, an electric guitar player with his own famous band- The Luckys- who often performed at the school's proms, an excellent drummer, and a sports prodigy; he was captain of the lacrosse, basketball, swimming, and baseball team. In the days of early spring, girls would crowd around the academy's swimming pool, and watch Brian Alba swim. It was a truly disgusting sight.

"Serena." Mr. McCain sighed heavily, and gave me an apocalyptic glare. "You have failed so many math tests, I think it'll be better if you dropped math- you're putting in zero effort. My job is to lecture and teach you kids," he gestured towards the class. "And make sure you all will be ready for next year… your junior year. With PSATs and SATs coming up, this is a really important class to focus and put effort on. I'm afraid you're doing the exact opposite of that, Serena." Mr. McCain ended his galling dignity speech with a light pinch of the bridge of his nose and a disproval shook of his head.

All of this really made me simper. I normally wouldn't give a damn about what a math teacher like Mr. McCain would say, but something about this vexatious oration made me sweat with nervousness.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mr. McCain, but I have no intension of dropping out of math class." I swear on my cat, Holly that a smile was beginning to fight through that thin line of brick red lips Mr. McCain wore. I decided to piss him off more and wipe than smile of his face. "I mean I _can't_ drop out. My parents would be mad."

I know that wasn't true. My mom, Brooke, was a fulltime lawyer who didn't have time to care about what I did, and my dad, Bobby, was… well he was… my dad, the alcoholic. The one who was always partying with his friends at night in bars, and was so oblivious to my existence, if I dropped dead in front of him, the most he would do was pretend it was a joke and drop dead, drunk. Then there's my brother, Justin, who was off at Oxford University in England. Justin and I never had a real brother-sister bond, but at least he knew I exist,

"Serena, please step outside." Mr. McCain now looked bloodcurdling.

I signed and gathered up my binder, folder, and other paraphernalia I carry around. As soon as I shut the door behind me, I sprinted down the hall to the bathroom; I needed a break from class.

I reached into the pocket of my blue hoodie and took out my new red LG Venus. There were seven new messages. Three from my boyfriend, Blaine, two from my best friend, Allie, and two from Bobby. I erased Bobby's, knowing that he was just trying to annoy me to death, and scanned through the others.

Blaine: im picking u up after dinner, k?

I grimaced at the message. Regardless of my knowledge of dressing up for the prom, I was not at all prepared it. Here at PSHS (Palm Spring High School), there were fours proms a year: the freshman prom, the sophomore prom, the junior prom, and the senior prom. Blaine was going to take me to the sophomore prom. I signed.

Allie: You have new Picture Mail! Click Go/View to see now.

Allie: heyyy, s! do u like my prom dress??

Allie: y aren't u replying?? im sooo bored in pottery!

I clinked the Go/View button and waited.

I knew Allie was on the screen, but gosh. She was not Allie anymore. Instead, she was an absolutely gorgeous runway model. The kind you would see on a glossy magazine ad. She wore her opulent, straight brown hair up in a glossy, recherché ballet bun with two pieces of classically done curly hair, neatly tucked behind her ears; she wore dazzling diamond studs in her ears. Her elegant strapless white dress was long at the back and trailed the floor. The front was pulled up into an angle with dangling ruffles. A black satin sash clinched to her waist, emphasizing her small, but tall figure. There was also a pink vintage rosette pinned to the front with small, lacy fabric along the edges. The dress really showed of her golden skin. Her black heels were covered in rhinestones and were held to her ankle by two delicate white silk ribbons. The heels also exaggerated her already tall frame.

A sparkle of gold caught my eye, and I immediately recognized the gold locket I gave to her for her 16th birthday. It had contained two pictures of me and her making melodramatic faces. I smiled at the thought and then frowned. Why did all my friends have to look pulchritudinous in their gorgeous dresses and I didn't? My dress almost looked…dull; I winced.

As soon as I got home, I called over my friend, Lola, and got started on my pampering and preparations for the prom. Normally, I would've called up John, my hair stylist, and Carly, my make up artist to do my hair and make up, but I had a grudge that tonight was going to be a night to be remembered throughout my whole life.

While Lola washed my hair with a pomegranate infused shampoo over the sink, I gave myself a French manicure. It wasn't the easiest thing to do, but according to my baby pink Tiffany watch, I only had an hour and a half left before Blaine came, and I didn't want to look flawed so I had to cram. After taking half an hour to blow-dry my damp, knotted hair and setting them into hot curlers at the crown of my head, I began to panic. There wasn't much time left; I had cook dinner for the rest of my family, and then put my dress on and… Ugh! There was way too much to do in just an hour.

"Serena quit shaking! Your hair is hard enough to curl and your shaking is making it a lot harder than it has to be!" Lola was getting annoyed. I would've given up long ago; my hair was just naturally, impossibly pin-straight.

"I'm just really nervous, that's all. You're lucky you've already got everything in place," I said.

Lola _is_ ready. She already had on her impeccable dress and the way she looked right now- her beauty rivaled Roxanne Vreeland's, who was the hazel brunette captain of PSHS's varsity cheerleading squad. Every girl despised her for her flawless beauty, but that was the sick and twisted part. Nobody hated her for her personality, just her looks. She's a real softie; she has that altruistic, amiable girl-next-door charm. It was disgustingly blinding.

"Spare me, Serena. Roxanne's hot boyfriend, Connor, wants you and he doesn't even know it. In addition to Connor, you've got Blaine. All the girls had crushes on him since forever. You should be grateful." Lola almost scowled at me. She liked Blaine since kindergarten- that makes almost nine years! A new record. I laughed out loud.

"What's so funny?" Lola demanded.

"Just thinking about kindergarten," I said with a sly look on my face.

"Kindergarten?" Lola echoed with a surprise tone in her mellow soprano voice.

"Yeah. The good times we had together."

Thankfully, Lola smiled a real smile at me, her provoked expression dispersing altogether under the newly blossomed blissful look on her face.

A while later after I painted my toenails a dark geranium color, Lola took out the hot curlers and luxurious, grandiose golden curls tumbled out, obscuring my neck down to the middle of my back. With a few quick brushes through the magnificent bunch of hair, Lola skillfully piled my curls on top of my head and secured it with a hair elastic and countless bobby pins. Finally, she misted my head with a mango-scented hairspray.

"Serena, you look beautiful," Lola gushed.

Her compliment didn't really impress me. She might as well say, "Serena, you're my work of masterpiece." But I just smiled at her, hoping my face wouldn't give me away.

Lola then rigorously applied a shade of glossy nude pink lipstick to my lips, some brown mascara to my lashes, and a bit of mauve eye shadow, scowling in disbelief when I insisted no make-up; "And no make-up, please. I think your natural look is best on you," Blaine had said politely. I tried my best to listen him, but couldn't stop the obstinate Lola.

After putting in painstaking effort to make Grandpa Jack's special extra spicy chilly, I said goodbye to Lola and disappeared upstairs to get dressed.

My dress was actually designed by Lola. It looked a great deal like her dress except mine was a light coral knee-length silk halter-top. She had surprised me with it for my birthday, except that I told her that my birthday was the day _after_ prom. She'd said, "An early prom present, that's all. I thought you might like it since prom was pretty close to your birthday, and I know you're saving money up for the periwinkle suede Christian Louboutin stiletto heels that you saw from _Lucky._" I had gaped at her stupidly for a few seconds until she playfully slapped my cheek and I had snapped awake.

At seven o'clock sharp, Blaine confidently appeared out of thin air on my balcony when I was putting finishing touches on my dress. He had a little gold foil box that was wrapped with a silver iridescent ribbon and bow in one hand, and a single blood red rose in the other.

"You look… beyond exceptionally ravishing," Blaine smiled his glorious smile and handed me the single rose, but kept the little gold box.

I took a small whiff of the rose and fell into an enchanted spell. I never knew heaven smelled oh-so-sensational…

"You look a little dazed… Are you okay?" Blaine noted.

"I'm fine. Just a little stunned." I had meant to say, "I'm absolutely not fine. Just really stunned by the way you look right now- beyond exceptionally ravishing, like you said."

Blaine simply smiled and handed me the now unwrapped little black box. I carefully pulled the top of with the silk ribbon and gasped out loud. Inside was a sparkling magnificent rose gold necklace encrusted with diamonds and a heavy blue heart-shaped princess-cut sapphire. I felt my jaw drop with a _pop_.

"Do you like it?" Blaine asked anxiously.

"Do I like it? I echoed, "I love it, Blaine. It's… it's…" Tears pooled up in my eyes as I struggle to find a word to match the necklace's elegance and pureness.

"I'm sorry," Blaine said in an unnecessary sincere way.

"Why are you sorry?" I demanded in an almost angry way. I could feel my tears rolling down my cheeks, leaving conspicuous tear streaks from my bottom lid down to the edge of my chin. Unwillingly, I reached up and wiped my eyes with my wrist, making a mental note to thank Lola for applying water and smudge proof mascara.

"It's not what you think, Serena," Blaine started in a tender tone. "I'm apologizing for making you cry- you shouldn't shed a single tear on my behalf, and especially not on your special prom night."

"It's your special prom night, too," I mumbled, staring hopelessly down at my statuesque gift, feeling extremely negligible in comparison.

Blaine reached over and swiftly took the necklace from the velvet box and skillfully hooked the clasp around my neck. The sapphire necklace gleamed and sparkled brilliantly under the dim lights coming from my Japanese floor lamp. It felt heavy-the kind of natural heaviness you get from wearing abundant jewelry on one place.

"It's called Heart of the Ocean. You know, from _Titanic_. It's an exact replica; I had Uncle Rich craft one out. You remember, don't you?" Blaine's voice was so subdue it sounded like he was mumbling to himself.

Of course I remembered the time we watched _Titanic_. That was the first time I experienced love. It happened in the summer of 8th grade (going into 9th grade). I had invited Blaine over to my house after I woke up in the middle of the night at one o'clock; I had screamed so loud after waking up from the middle of the night from an eerie nightmare about some seductive bloodthirsty creatures of the night, even Bobby, who was drunk, woke up with a start.

Blaine had to sneak over to my house, which was a half-mile away, and brought buttered popcorn and some classic movies to watch with me. He knew that it was impossible for me to go back to sleep once I woke up from a nightmare; it wasn't the first time he had to go to my house for this particular situation. We watched _The Notebook_ and then _Titanic_. I had an extremely hard time sitting through _The Notebook_; my hands were gripping the beige leather sofa's armrest convulsively, fighting the urge to reach out for Blaine's hand and cradle it to my heart as if it were a precious treasure. Apparently Blaine wasn't doing so well either. He actually excused himself a bunch of times to get more popcorn for us and had always sat on the other end of the sofa.

Blaine and I had officially became "boyfriend-girlfriend" since the 8th grade graduation dance. Blaine and I had danced to only one song and he asked me out. I was so hyperventilated I gasped for air while fanning myself with my clutch. Even though this wasn't the first time he's come over in this kind of situation, Blaine and I seemed to have triggered the love around us with those tow love stories.

After watching _The Notebook_, I started to cry for Allie and Noah and how they were torn apart from each other because of Allie's uncompromising parents. To my delighted surprise, Blaine locked his arms around me, cradling me to his chest and tucking my head underneath his chin. I glanced up at him in surprise-_Titanic_ had just gotten to the love spell of Jack and Rose. Then he kissed me (my first kiss!). After that quick first kiss, we both decided to kiss our way through the movie and that was what we did. I still remember that night crystal clear; I had wanted the Heart of the Ocean and Blaine had promised me an exact replica. I had thought he was kidding. That night was probably the happiest night of my life.

But there's something else about Blaine's gift.

It was as if the sapphire heart had become _my_ heart. Even though someone like Lola would think that I had the life every high school girl wants, she couldn't be more wrong. Lola only envied my outside part.

On the outside, I'm this amicable, outgoing, bold girl. On the inside, where no one but Blaine has ever really tapped into, I'm this adamant, cold-hearted girl who's done nothing but hurt others, a coward with no face.

That time, when Justin was eighteen and I was only fourteen, Justin fell off the ladder attempting to clean out the gutters and broke his left leg, his right arm and cracked his skull… when I found him he was unconscious and bleeding to death. I did nothing except took one long lethargic stare at him and fainted. I couldn't stand the sight or the rusty smell of blood.

It's said that a diamond is a girl's best friend. But what if the diamond wasn't enough? What if there was more to the gemstone than looks alone? What if a girl wanted more than just diamonds? What's a girl to do?

Thinking about all the woeful mistakes I've inflicted upon others started the tears up again in my eyes. I tried to think of some providential events of my life. I ended up thinking about Blaine and this majestic necklace I wear, but stopped when I realized that Blaine was the who broke the barrier between my two sides, the one who healed me after my Yorkshire terrier, Savvy, died of a tumor in her left knee, and most importantly, the one who smiled at me when I made a mistake. Blaine's compassion was everlasting, kind of like an amaranth flower. Pondering our happy times made the tears ooze down my cheeks and dribble freely to the corners of my lips.

"What I am going to do with you, beautiful Serena?" Blaine pulled me into his arms and I rested my tear-soaked face on his chest. I had no idea how long we stayed like that, but Blaine was the one who broke free and gently unhooked my hands from his waist.

"You ready to go?"

"Yeah," I mumbled.

When we got to the Ritz Carlton Palm Springs Resort-the hotel that held the sophomore prom each year-my eyes bugged a mile out. I couldn't believe that this was a _hotel_. It looked a lot more like a fancy ballroom in an French castle. Apparently, I'd forgotten that this year's sophomore prom's theme was French customs.

Massive crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceiling while hundreds of glow-in-the-dark floated in the air; the dim chandeliers provided the only light in the ballroom so the glow-in-the-dark effect was exceptional. Silky white curtains, casting long shadows along the finely polished mahogany floor, framed the giant French windows. To the left side was the dance floor and to the right were the pale rose linen-covered dining tables, with the classic two-to-a-table manner. On each table stood a tall, thin vase of bouquet consisting of a few golden honeysuckles (a less common flower use to symbolize love and generosity), jasmine (the Hindu symbol for love), and a single red rose. To the left of the romantic bouquet stood a single pre-lighted white candle, casting dim shadows of the delicate chinaware. The small rectangular tables were all covered with pink rose petals.

Towers of neatly decorated petite French desserts filled a rotating glass table while twenty large crystal bowls that were filled with various berries for dipping into the chocolate and vanilla fountains that stood on opposite ends of another rectangular table.

I noticed that pearly white, dark red, and midnight black seemed to be the three main colors of the dresses this year with the yearly exceptions of some bright, lively neon colors. Last year at the freshman prom, I had worn a silky pink Dolce & Gabbana bubble-hem dress that had blended perfectly well with everyone else's, but this year I was considered as one of the "bright, lively" people who often took risks in the fashion department. All of a sudden my mood shifted from romantic dinners by vanilla-scented candles in Italy to the icy expeditions in Antarctica; I felt waves of vulnerability sending barrages at me. But as soon as I saw Lola, Pamela, and Chrissie-all dressed in shades of warm chocolate-I felt better. It seemed like I wasn't the only one who missed the prom dress trend.

"Hey Serena! Is that really you?" Chrissie took a hold of a flowing piece of chiffon and felt its unique, light texture.

"Um… yeah, I think," I gave Chrissie a warm wry smile.

We, as a group, made our way to the dance floor and started dancing. Chrissie's date came down with the flu so she hanged out with Blaine and I. It was annoying though, not having any privacy for conversation; Chrissie was a bit of a chatterbox.

At a quarter to eight, a waiter dressed in black and white rung a little silver bell, addressing to all of us that it's time for dinner. I searched for an empty table among the sea of people and failed miserably; I wasn't very tall at five feet six inches, compared to others. However, at least my date was tall enough for me to wear heels. I smirked at Lola and her date, who was a few inches shorter than her.

Then I saw Blaine, who was smiling brightly at me, made a motion with his index finger for me to join him. After I sat down, a waiter dressed in a French-custom suit brought us a basket of Brie cheese appetizers (light, fluffy pastry filled with melted Brie cheese) two glasses of water and a menu. I didn't feel really hungry so I ordered a bowl of French onion soup. Blaine, on the other hand, ordered at least ten dishes, some of them I haven't even heard of. He barely ate anything-just one frog leg and gave the rest to me. When the soup came, I quietly spooned it into my mouth with small sips at a time, keeping my head up and staring into Blaine's sudden troubled eyes.

"What's wrong, Blaine? You look… solicitous."

"It's nothing. I was just thinking about transformation." Blaine smiled but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Transformation?" I echoed.

"Yes, transformation," Blaine conformed.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"I don't really know myself. It's, right now, vague. I feel like I'm missing a piece of a puzzle."

"I have no idea what the heck you're talking about," I said with a questioning tone.

"And I'm counting on that." Blaine said in a serious tone.

This conversation was officially over by the looks of it.

For dessert I ordered a strawberry-banana crepe, but didn't even touch it. I was to distracted by Blaine's concerned look.

But before we knew it, the rest of the night ended. Blaine brought his camera and we took a bunch of pictures of ourselves, making the valuable time between us as last as long as possible.

The night ended with a slow song, a _really_ slow song. I nervously locked my arms around Blaine's neck while he casually wrapped his arm around my waist. I wasn't nervous about the dancing, not self-conscious at all. I was nervous because I was getting the strange feeling that some unforeseen force was watching me. Then I stopped and laughed quietly at myself. Me and my intuition…

When the prom was over, Blaine and I were driven to my house by a white stretch limo that Blaine had ordered for the night for some post-prom celebration. I saw no reason to celebrate a celebration, as it sort of contradicted the whole partying theme, like when you multiply or divide two negative numbers (Bobby would be really proud of my analogy). But Blaine had insisted on partying for my birthday, which was in a few hours.

Blaine and I voted on what movies we were going to watch. We both went along with each other's vote pretty well; we both wanted a classic movie. Blaine wanted to watch a classic horror movie and I wanted to watch a classic love story.

We watched _Casablanca _(the 1942 version) first because, well, I had wanted the love blanket to still be draped over us after the prom, before having it dissolve into an atmosphere of trepidation when we watch the horror-classic, _Dracula_, which, to Blaine's surprise, I'd never heard of; Blaine had a thing for horror movies.

In the middle of _Dracula_, my cell phone rang. I had left it upstairs to charge so I ignored it. But the ringing didn't stop for some reason.

"Ugh! Stupid, messed-up phone! I'll be right back," I said with a wink.

I half-ran up the grand stairway into my room, taking no notice of my camera, which I had left on the floor. I stepped on the camera and tripped over, landing on my side. Apparently, I grabbed the marble bust of Henry Thoreau, who Bobby seems to really look up to despite his addiction to alcohol, for balance and cut my throat with the sharp edge of his hair. Then I saw specks of blood, making a contrast between its crimson color and the whiteness of the rug.

"Shoot!" Why did I always leave my things out in the open?

In addition to my clumsiness, I have hemophobia-fear of blood. Ever since a car, while riding her bicycle, hit Lola and I was there to watch her bleed to death, I had a fear of blood. Brooke also had a fear of blood, but she didn't have it this hard. If I see my own blood (unless the blood was oozing out or something) I don't usually react. But if I see even the tiniest drop of blood from someone else, I'll either have a seizure or faint. This includes pictures of blood, realistic animations of blood, etc… you see why I would never watch classic horror movies (unless I'm with Blaine).

"Are you okay up there?" Blaine's voice was full of cark.

"I'm fine! Just tripped over my camera." I sighed at my own gracelessness.

"Do you want me to-"

"No, you go on watching. I'll be down in a sec." I had to cut Blaine off in order for him to realize that I was being serious and had gotten rid of my silliness. But there was a uncertain look in Blaine's dark eyes, as if he was trying to hide something from me and is now debating whether of not to tell me. I decided to let him off the hook since I wanted tonight to be perfect.

I stumbled my way to my bathroom and fiddled with the medicine cabinet next to the sink mirror. My hand shook uncontrollably as I reached for the box of band-aids; I watched my reflection in the mirror as the blood gushed from the wound and dripped down my neck, staining the white kimono robes I had changed into.

Before I could clean my cut, I saw a disturbing image of a hooded figure in the mirror, its face obscured by the long hood. I whipped around and saw nothing. But the figure in the mirror appeared to have gotten closer and closer. I was about to scream, but then smiled a wry smile, thinking that I was hallucinating because of _Dracula_. I peeked at the mirror again and this time I felt icy smooth fingers on my face. I reluctantly looked up and saw the hooded figure's pale face, inches away from mine. Then a sharp, high-pitched voice rang through the vast bathroom. The sound was piercing and didn't stop. Then I realized that it was me, screaming at the top of my lungs.

"W-w-who a-a-are y-y-you? How did you come out of the mirror?" My words were slurred and I could barely understand what I was saying. It was as if my mind had said that out of reflex.

"I am Andreas of Crete." The hooded figure's voice made me flinch; his hood was off now as he spoke in a generally polite manner of introducing himself while ignoring all insignificant questions like how he came out of the mirror. His voice sounded pleasantly low with a European accent I couldn't identify. Even though he claimed that he was from Crete, he didn't sound Greek-I would know, Brooke was born in a mountainous part of Larissa. Although his voice didn't seem Greek, his appearance did. He had the look of a Greek God, unbelievably handsome. Andreas stepped out of the mirror, but kept his steel grasp on my chin.

His cold fingers formed a net on my mouth; I was still screaming with fear and anxiety.

"Please, be quiet. I am simply a messenger from Death Forest. I will not hurt you, my lady." His polite verbalization convinced me that he wasn't going to hurt me, but I fought against his grasp.

"What are you? I don't understand this! Let go of me!" My voice sounded muffled as it sprung up through a few octaves.

"I'm sorry, Serena. I'm already breaking the law by allowing you to see me-I didn't realize you could see me. Anyhow, this will all be clear to you soon enough. Rowan will explain it all to you," Andreas spoke slowly as his words sunk in.

"Rowan? Who's he? I've never heard of him."

"He is Blaine to everyone in the human world," Andreas said in an apologetic tone, his glowing amber eyes soft.

"No! You stop this right now! Blaine isn't a freak! Blaine wouldn't know about this! Stop putting this on him!" My voice cracked sharply.

"I'm sorry, but I have to end our delightful conversation short. This message was meant for Rowan, but seeing that he's lost most of his strength when he devoted his soul to you and probably can't even sense me… I have no other alternatives but to pass along to you the message. Tell Rowan that his old companion has come and it's time." With that, Andreas of Crete released his fingers from my face and jumped back into the sink mirror.

I watched as his image in the mirror glided gracefully further in and than dissolved into thin air. Then my leg muscles failed to support the rest of my body and I sank to my knees and felt the moisture in my eyes leak over the brims. My head began to spin as I sat there, motionless as a statue, surrounded by a betrayed and agonized atmosphere.


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Legendary

When I finally found enough strength to get up on my feet, it was well pass midnight. Blaine or Rowan or however was still downstairs; I could hear the T.V still on.

I dragged my self down the stairs and waited for Blaine/Rowan to say something, knowing that this must be what he was worried about at the prom.

"Serena," Blaine said.

"Yes?" I growled.

"I'm sorry. I should've told you everything. I wasn't sure. My own motivations were unclear."

"Andreas of Crete has a message for you," I said, ignoring his words.

"Andreas? I didn't expect him to come. I thought the Council of Seven Souls had come." Blaine turned around to face me and I gasped.

"Blaine, what happened to you?" I stared at Blaine with wide eyes.

"I'm not Blaine. I'm Rowan." The pale, lean-muscled blond person stared right back at me; as if Blaine was a person he'd never heard of.

"Who are you? What have you done with Blaine?!" I was on the edge of losing it. Rowan continued to stare cordially at me, not at me face, but at my neck.

"There was never a 'Blaine'. Blaine never existed. The Blaine you knew was me, Rowan Van Daniels," Rowan said in an amused tone.

"Explain it to me, damn it!" I was now screaming, too confused to be diplomatic. One moment Blaine and I were watching _Dracula_ and then another moment passed and…some freak popped out of the bathroom mirror saying that 'Rowan will explain it all to you' and then…some really handsome blond guy pops up in my living room and claims that he's Blaine.

"I'll explain it all to you after you clean your wound. Your blood looks absolutely appetizing-I have a thing for AB type blood," Rowan said, not aware of the fact that I have no clue what he's talking about and how he knows about my blood type.

But Rowan seemed to have sensed my confusion and said, "I guess Andreas haven't told you. Do you know what Andreas and I are?"

"Uh…guys?" 'Guys' was the first word that popped up into my head.

"No, silly," Rowan said with an enchanting, soft laugh. "I mean what species we are."

"Um… Homo sapiens sapiens?"

"Wrong," Rowan said immediately, as if he knew that I was going to answer wrong.

"Then…what are you?" I shivered at the possibilities and stifled a laugh.

"I am a _lamia_," Rowan said grimly.

"A vampire? You expect me to believe such crap? I'm not stupid, you know," I growled angrily at Rowan, hoping that he'll get serious sometime soon. Thankfully, I took Latin through middle school; _lamia_ was vampire in Latin.

"Yes, a _lamia_. I see you don't believe me. Although, I'm impress that you understand Latin," Rowan said with a huge smirk on his pale face. He looked like he was taunting me.

"You see right."

"Then I suppose it wouldn't hurt if I _show_ you I'm a vampire."

"You go right ahead! Then tell me what you've done with Blaine!" I was on the edge of hysteria now.

"I told you! There was never a 'Blaine'." Rowan now sounded frustrated and didn't bother with his politeness anymore. "Please stand back, Serena."

I unwillingly took a few steps back. Rowan reached into collar of his button down shirt and pulled out a necklace with a rough piece of a blood-red stone that I didn't recognize. He rolled the stone around in his palm for a few seconds and then held it to his throat and _cut himself with a sharp point!_ I tried to avert my eyes to the ground, expecting blood to squirt out, but nothing flowed out of the cut. Then a sharp blinding light burst from the wound, forcing me to look away. A few seconds passed and the light dimmed into a glowing light. I shielded my eyes from the light with my hands and gapped at Rowan.

His clothing didn't change, but his appearance certainly did. His golden blond hair was now neatly combed back rather than the other Rowan's tousled platinum blond hair. His steel blue eyes were replaced with a striking amber hue; his eyes were the same shade as Andreas'. His nose was more angular and his ears weren't pointy as I'd expect from a vampire, not that I believed that he was one in the first place. Rowan smiled at me and exposed his gleaming, ultra-white teeth. It shocked me; I'd expected long, sharp fangs, but all of his teeth were all perfectly set into his jaw.

"Surprised? Do you believe me now?" Rowan asked in a taunting voice.

"Yes." It was all I could say.

"Yes to 'surprised?' or yes to believing me?"

"Yes to 'surprised?', no to believing you."

"No to believing me?" Rowan sounded a little angry now. "Why won't you believe me?"

"Just because you 'changed' into another person doesn't mean you're a vampire," I snapped.

"What more do I have to do to show you that I'm a vampire? Do you want me to summon the Council of Seven Souls?" Rowan retorted.

"Council of Seven Souls?" I echoed.

"They're something like the United Nations, but with vamp-"

"There's no such thing as a vampire!" I insisted; I'm getting really irritated now.

"Then you leave me no choice," Rowan sighed.

"No choice? How dare you threaten me! I'm calling the cops on you," I said with triumph.

I turned around to get the phone. Before I could take a step, my back was suddenly hard against the wall. Rowan put both of his hands on my shoulder and I shivered; his hand felt unnaturally cold. I looked down, trying to avoid his scorching glare. Rowan placed one hand under my chin and gently tilted my head so that I had to look at him. His glorious gaze locked my eyes and kept me from struggling from his unbreakable hold.

He leaned in and breathed, "I'm so sorry, Serena. But I have no other alternatives to make you realize reality."

Rowan was now so close, the tip of my nose was two inches away from his. I breathed in his breath, cold and delicious and than fell into his arms, leaving my consciousness behind.

My eyelids felt heavy as they fluttered under the sudden bright light. The room felt unfamiliar, too bright and too placid. I could feel the warm afternoon sun, glowing upon my face. The sound of rushing water from a nearby stream was refreshing and invigorating; it muffled the strident cry of squawking raven and the melodic tune of a calling robin. But wait, since when was there a stream in my yard? Even my family's private seven-acre park land didn't have a single stream of water. I rolled onto my back without opening my eyes and cuddled closer in my blanket. I ducked my head into my pillow and inhaled in the fresh smell of pure linen.

A cold hand stroked my face delicately and I shivered under its cold touch.

"It was an ardent love, you know," a familiar, pleasant voice said.

I then realized what was happening to me and jolted from my sleep.

"How long have I been asleep for?" I blinked twice without any control of my sleep-deprived eyelids in an attempt to control my voice.

"About two and a half days," Rowan chuckled under his breath.

"Two and a half days?! Why are you so happy about this?! Brooke and Bobby going to freak!" I shrieked.

"Relax, Serena. I've got it covered for you. Brooke and Bobby think you've gone to summer camp in Vancouver. I'm content about all of this because… well, you sleep really funny." Rowan threw a smirk at me.

"Uh… I sleep funny? Excuse me? Whatever do you mean? I…" My voice trailed off as I blushed a shade of pink. I knew exactly what he was talking about.

"You don't talk or walk in your sleep, you punch and kick."

"What can I say? My reflexes are just too developed from karate," I said with a cool tone.

"Reflexes? Reflexes against what? I hope you're not talking about me, are you? Rowan said in a genuine offended way.

"No, I don't know. It's just a habit or something," I said, looking away as another blush blended in with the first one.

"Good, I'm glad we have a clean slate."

"I'm glad too. Now, would you like to explain to me by what you meant by 'it was an ardent love' and give me a little background info about your life; I feel like I'm missing something." I said, fluttering my eyelashes in an attempt to look persuasive.

"Ok, but only if you promise not to tell anyone about our little encounter," Rowan said in a sudden serious tone.

"Why? Why does it matter?" I asked winsomely , trying to conceal the true meaning behind my question.

"I'm not supposed to be with you. In other words, I'm suppose to be with you, but not physically visible." Rowan looked away from my face and observed the outside world through the window. He stared at a blooming cherry blossom tree , but in a distant, remote way. He seemed to be cogitating and disputing with himself about something in his own little world.

"You know I have absolutely no idea what you just said. So, in modern English, please construe what you mean," I said sincerely, hoping that he and I can get a fresh start and forget about the events that happened two nights ago; my behavior that night was unacceptable.

"I mean…" Rowan hesitated once again, struggling to find words.

"You can trust me." I leaned toward him and mustered the most convincing sincere look I could manage.

"It's a long story."

"I've got time. Remember? Summer camp in Vancouver?"

"It's not time I'm worried about. It's the context of it. I'm worried that you're going to hyperventilate." Rowan turned his face to me and watched my expression, probably expecting me to lose it soon.

"Try me."

Rowan sighed sharply and it sounded awfully close to a hiss. Then he inhaled deeply and began his story.

"My full name is Rowan Hamilton Van Daniels. I was born in New York City on March 3, 1928. I-"

"You were born in 1928?" I gasped. "How come you aren't wrinkly or old-looking?"

"I'm a vampire, Serena," Rowan mused.

"Vampires age, too." My voice didn't seem very even.

"No, we don't," he contradicted.

"You…you don't? You weren't born a vampire, were you? How long do you live for?" My questions spewed out of my mouth without even considering politeness.

"No, I wasn't born a vampire. I was turned into one during the night of my seventeenth birthday. Vampires live forever, Serena. We don't age or change at all in appearance during forever. If I was bald when I changed, I would be bald forever."

I shivered reflexively at the thought of fair Rowan turned bald for all of eternity.

"My mother, Cornelia Mary Bennett, died giving birth to me and my father, Tom Desmond Hamilton, had to raise my two twin brothers, Collin and Skyler, my sister, Kay, and me with his annual salary of about three thousand dollars from his job as a company owner. Back then, three thousand dollars was a lot of money; my family was pretty rich from all the money we saved from the bank. When I was just a few months old, in 1929, the stock markets crashed and my father's entire fortune was lost to the Great Depression."

"He couldn't afford to keep all of us and he didn't want us to suffer, so Collin, Skyler, and I were sent to a local orphanage while he raised Kay with his measly salary. A year later, the Van Daniels, who spoiled me with countless toys, adopted me. Up until I turned seventeen, they treated exceptionally well with love and generosity. The night I turned seventeen was a night I'll never forget." Rowan now looked completely out of it; his eyes were staring far off into space.

"What happened?" I asked anxiously.

"On the morning of March 2, 1945, Mr. and Mrs. Van Daniels gave me a necklace." Rowan reached into his shirt and pulled out the necklace he cut himself with. "They had said 'It'll come in handy soon, son' and locked me in my room. I couldn't understand why they locked me in my room, but I had trusted them so I laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling."

"They did not call me for lunch and by the time dinner came around, I began to worry. I used a small nail and picked the door open. When I walked into the majestic family room, I saw a horrifying sight. Mr. and Mrs. Van Daniels sat on the rug, sharing a… meal." Rowan looked away and went right back to pondering. This time he seemed to be editing some details of his story.

"What meal?" I demanded. I had meant to sound encouraging, but my mind wasn't working today so my words turned into a demand.

"What meal? You really want to know? I tell you what meal. A human was the meal." Rowan laughed bitterly.

"A h-h-human?" I'd barely manage to force the words out. Suddenly, my bones turned spongy and I fell back onto the bed. My eyes opened wide with terror and my body shook uncontrollably. Rowan must've sensed this because his eyes didn't have a hint of surprise in them. He sat me up as he continued.

"Yes, a human. They were taking blood from the human. By the time I realized, the corpse's skin shriveled up and dissolved, leaving only the bones- sorry, I'm scaring you aren't I?" Rowan looked pained as he extracted the awful memory from his mind.

"N-n-no I'm fine," I mumbled.

"Are you sure? You look quite green."

I smiled up at him with a look that assured him that I was fine.

"After about a minute standing there motionless, the Van Daniels looked up and stared at me. Mrs. Van Daniels was to first to speak, 'we should've told you earlier, but we would've broken the laws. We're truly sorry, dearest Rowan.' In less than the blink of an eye, Mr. Van Daniels pinned me to the ground, not that I wasn't already ridged with shock. Mrs. Van Daniels walked slowly to me, as if emphasizing the torturous moment, and bent down and bit me on the neck." Rowan's tone was saturated with torment, but his eyes were searing ember.

"The next thing I knew, I woken up with a staggering thirst. One so overwhelming that I flew into fury and scorched everything in sight with my newly discovered fire breathing power-"

"You can breathe fire?" I interrupted.

"Yes, but that was back then, when I was a half blood vampire- a vampire that's lived under fifty human years and is uncontrollable because of the lack of self discipline. Twenty nine years ago, I became a fresh blood vampire- a vampire that's lived under two hundred human years and has gained enough experiences, and is able to associate with humans without the overwhelming urge to drain it dry of blood."

"As I was saying, I was uncontrollable- even to the Van Daniels, who abandoned me to the Council of Seven Souls shortly after seeing what I've become. For the first four years, I was locked up in the highest room in the tallest tower in the smallest, most eerie wing, with no rights of freedom, except for those short periods of time in the summer and spring, where I was able to roam freely in the massive corridors of the vampire chateau. I was given only one small meal a week in an attempt to restrain my perpetual craving and had my arms handcuffed with heavy, rusty metal links. Finally, after the dreadful four years, I was sent to Vampire Academy," Rowan said and then paused. He looked away again as if to veil some awful truth.

"Vampire Academy? What happened afterwards?" I asked eagerly.

"Well… let's just say that things went a lot smoother ever since. Vampire Academy is a private, well-concealed academy that's been branched off into seven divisions; each division is located a mile underneath an Ivy League university. It's-"

"It's _underneath _an Ivy League university?" I interrupted yet again.

"That's correct. To vampires, Vampire Academy looked like the outside world with beautiful blue skies, flourishing chrysanthemums… I'll show you one day," Rowan said as he closed his eyes. When he opened them slowly after a few minutes of utter silence, he continued, "The divisions are like middle to high school; each division a grade. The highest ranking division is beneath Harvard University in Cambridge, Massachusetts because it was the first Ivy university. The ranked divisions, from highest to lowest, are located underneath these schools in this order, respectively: Harvard, Yale, University of Pennsylvania, Princeton, Columbia, Brown, Dartmouth, and Cornell."

"Does that mean you've studied through seven years of vampire school?" I asked.

"That's precisely correct. Although the Van Daniels had turned me into a vampire, a malignant creature of the incessant night, I feel eternally in debt to them. Becoming a vampire may have put me through hell, but it brought good fortune too." Rowan was whispering now, his voice blending into the warm summery breeze.

"Good fortune?" I said in a surprised tone. "What good fortune could living forever as 'a creature of the incessant night' bring?"

"The good fortune brought me, you, Serena Marilyn Matthews."

I stared at him with startled eyes and stiffened. "Me? What do you mean?"

Rowan placed a hand on either side of my shoulders and shook me a little to loosen up rigid posture. My head bobbed up and down and Rowan shook slightly harder.

"Remember what I said about how you're not suppose to see me? Oh, Serena. This is a _really_ story."

"I-I-I've g-g-got t-t-time," I mumbled through my clattering teeth.

Rowan smiled. "You know, I'm beginning to think that your patience is better than mine."

"I highly doubt that. My patience wears off pretty easily," I noted, informing him of my stubborn impatience.

"Anyway, twenty years ago, the Council received a new prophecy from the Generals from The Beyond- the afterlife of vampires. The prophecy was that all human beings were going to be slaughtered and drained dry of blood by the doings of the Barcelonans, a barbaric, scandalized band of vampires from _Baja California_, not Barcelona, Spain. They only named themselves the Barcelonans because of their Barcelonan ancestry; the first vampires to live in the Baja California Peninsula were from Barcelona. Because of the small population of good vamp-"

"Good vampires? I thought all vampires were criminals," I said. "You _did_ watch _Dracula_ with me, remember?" I shuddered slightly recalling the faint memory of that night.

"That is not true. Most vampires are on the good side. Rogue vampires like the Barcelonans chose not to; they kill humans before feeding on them. My kind, the _Catacano Kathakano_- a group of vampires whose origins are from Crete and Rhodes and the _Brukulako Brukolak_- a group of vampires whose origins are scattered across Greece- signed the Treaty of Fira in the capital city of an island in the southern Aegean Sea called Santorini. The pact formed and we joined together as one to stop the Barcelonans from annihilating your kind. But here is where the problem comes in," Rowan hissed silently.

"What's the problem? Couldn't you just hunt them down and ambush them?"

"It's not that easy, Serena."

"Well, what's the problem?" I asked, trying to push the answer out of him.

"This is really _verboten_," Rowan said as his expression hardened into a business-like form rather than his usual derisive look.

"What do you mean by 'verboten'? Is it the _law_ or something?" I laughed a mocking laugh.

"Yes, actually it is."

I gawked at him in incredulity. "Explain?"

"I've been specifically prohibited to tell anyone, especially you, about this. But," he hesitated. "But, you're technically seventeen years old already, right?"

"Right."

"You see, there are less Barcelonans than us, the good guys let's say, in the world. The other vampires, the neutral ones, aren't willing to take either side so we both had to recruit some new members. The Barcelonans all developed a unique ability- a hypnotic stare; once you get caught in it, you basically turn into a Barcelonan without any sort of resistance. In other words, it was easy for them to 'recruit' members. That leaves us no other alternatives. Against many virtuous vampires, the Council of Seven Souls gave the Generals the verdict: the Chosen Ones (the ten humans that have the purest of all human blood) have been selected and will be, without an interruption, forced into a vampire _on the night they turn seventeen_."

My eyes were now on the verge of popping out of their sockets and my stiffen body melted down into a pool of misery, realizing what destiny could've done to me, what _Rowan_ was addressed to do by the Council of Seven Souls.

"Are you crying? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you."

My hand flew to my eyes and quickly wiped the moisture from my eyes. There was no use; Rowan took me hand in his and chuckled softly, his voice like a deep wind chime swaying in the spring zephyr.

"It seems like you humans have emotional weaknesses," Rowan said, his voice suddenly barely interested.

"I guess we do," I whimpered.

We sat there on the bed, avoiding each other's gaze as we tried to comprehend the other's feelings. I could feel Rowan's intense eyes on me as I struggle to break the silence but couldn't successfully make an understandable word. Finally, I broke the silence.

"Just curious, why are you named 'Rowan'? Doesn't Rowan mean 'little red-head'? You hair is blond…"

Rowan laughed freely as his voice echoed through the almost-empty room, which I failed to notice since the canopy bed covered nearly all of the square feet in the room. "That is true, actually. In the years of my youth from when I was a mere toddler, I had strawberry blonde hair that was more towards the strawberry side. That brings up another thing. When a human transforms into a vampire for the first time, their appearance change: their eyes turn into either ember or gray colored, their hair turns blonde, ranging from honey, platinum, ash, or the rarest shade, golden brown. Other physical changes occur, too, but these are the ones you notice the most."

"I have another question," I said, giving him a chance to breath.

"You have lots of questions, one of them already bubbling on your tongue. What is it?"

"Uh…" I blushed down to my neck and shifted my body so that my shoulder and long hair obscured it and partial hid my face. Rowan shifted himself too; now he was facing me head-on.

"Please, the way you're blushing is making me anxious. Just tell me. You have nothing to be ashamed of." The corner of his lips turned upward into a genuine smile, not a mocking or sarcastic one.

I sighed, "Okay, what did you mean by 'it was an ardent love'"?

Rowan's dazzling smile faded slightly, and his eyes were suddenly filled with affliction. "Long ago, when I was fifteen, I fell in love with a beautiful girl named Georgina. She looked a great deal like you: buttery blonde hair, cerulean blue eyes, lovely smile and blushing cheeks, and about the same height, too. I feel attracted to you because of the resemblance you share with Georgina."

"When the day before I turned seventeen came around, Georgina and I were suppose to meet in Central Park, New York for a picnic to celebrate my birthday. Of course, the Van Daniels locked me up and had informed Georgina of my absence. For all the wrong reasons, Georgina was devastated."

"Later, a day after I was turned into a vampire, I found her body under a bridge in Central Park. The expression on her face was peaceful; she laid limply on the blanket along with a picnic basket filled with food. I stared at her after a while, thinking she was sleeping, but saw two teeth marks on her neck. I immediately knew that a vampire had sucked her blood almost completely dry."

"I-I-I'm sorry," I whimpered, shivering even though the warm spring air was showered over me.

"I'm scaring you, aren't I?" Rowan's agony was instantly gone and his mocking side returned.

"I-I-I think I'll need some water," I said as I failed to get up and stumbled over my shoe and fell back onto the bed.

"You stay right here. I'll get the water for you," Rowan said firmly.

I knew there was no way I could convince him to let me get my own water.

After Rowan left the room, I stared at my reflection in the huge mirror opposite of the bed. I didn't look like Serena Marilyn Matthews at all. My hair was a tangled mess and looked slightly greasy from the lack of shampooing, my face had patches of red and my eyes had bags underneath from restlessly sleeping for two days.

Then all of a sudden, the mirror shattered into millions of pieces and a unnatural gale of icy, wintry air blew around me, causing my body to freeze up. I whipped around and held back a scream.

Seven pairs of ravenous eyes stared at me. The ravenous eyes of vampires. Four of them were dressed in suits and the last one, the leader, was dressed in long robes. He had wavy golden brown hair- the rarest shade found in vampires- and a pale complexion.

"Who are you?" The leader spoke, his booming voice caused my teeth to clatter in sheer fright.

"S-S-Serena M-M-Matthews."

"Greetings, Serena Matthews. We have not come for you, at least not this time. We have come for Rowan Van Daniels. Where is he?"

"I-I-I d-d-don't k-k-know. He said he was get-"

"Don't lie to us, foolish girl! Do you have any idea who we are, or what we could do to you?" One of the suit-wearing vampires hissed.

"Silence!" The leader spoke again. "John?"

"The girl does not lie, sir," the one called John said.

"Very, well. Serena?"

"Y-Y-Yes?"

"Do you know who we are?" The leader's voice was gentle, not harsh or mocking.

"N-N-No," I stammered.

"We are the Council of Seven Souls. I'm sure you've heard about us from Rowan?"

"Yes," I said, successfully controlling my unsteady voice.

"Do you know what our job is?"

"Uh…no."

"Our job is to balance out the peace on Earth, including humans and vampires. When one, such as Rowan, breaks the law, they shall face serious consequences. No matter who the person is, the Protector shall _not_ let the person see them physically. We, the legendary Council of Seven Souls, declare Rowan Hamilton Van Daniels to be executed!"


End file.
